


Death Before Dishonour

by mary_sued



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, More realistic??, but there are still dragons so, idk if it's slowburn or not but it takes A While, just realised dagur doesn't appear for a long time so, sorry about that, what a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-04 23:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mary_sued/pseuds/mary_sued
Summary: Two years after a disastrous shipwreck strands Princess Kamilla and her handmaid on Berk, Stoick calls together the tribes to  compete for her hand in marriage.This would have been fine, if it weren't that she had been impersonating a princess that was already betrothed to a Chief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a hot mess of garbage that I created because there's very little Dagur/reader and I very much love my deranged boy. Fair warning, there's a lot of OC's (though I based most of them on characters from the books) and the whole universe is a little bit darker.   
> If none of that turns you off, settle in for a wild cliche ride.

‘You know we’re not supposed to do this.’

Kamilla shrugged. ‘Augusta, please. When has that stopped us before?’

The other woman laughed and stroked her dragon’s neck. It clicked and shifted in place, claws digging into the ground. Kamilla was still nervous around the Nadder but Augusta knew what her dragon could handle. She helped her friend climb up into the saddle behind her and petted Sagitta as it adjusted to two passengers.

‘Are you comfortable?’ Augusta was used to the weight of another person straddling the saddle behind her, often taking the village kids for short flights to their delight.  
Her friend, however, was squirming and shuffling. The back of the saddle was raised, like trying to sit on an anthill, and the feeling of Sagitta breathing between her legs was disconcerting. She let out a nervous giggle, ‘it’s not as horse-like as I was hoping.’

Augusta laughed again and tightened her grip on the front of the saddle. ‘This is no horse.’

She clicked her tongue and Sagitta perked up, squawking and throwing its wings out. Kamilla’s breath caught in her throat, two steps and it launched itself into the air. The only reason she didn’t scream is because she hadn’t had time to draw breath. When she could, when she forced herself to inhale icy air that burned her lungs, she let out a whooping laugh. Her fingers went numb immediately, secured as they were in the back of Augusta’s tunic. Flying was the most exhilarating experience she’d ever had and, not for the first time, she felt a pang of jealousy toward her friend.

The flight wasn’t too long. When they landed Kamilla slipped off Sagitta’s back and spent the first few minutes stretching and warming up. She knew she should have brought a fur with her but the flight had been last-minute. As it were, Augusta tried to fly below the clouds. It wouldn’t do to be wet and cold. They had long since explored Dragon Island, they knew they could hang around without the fear of aggressive animals or people. Berk was a different story. Sure, the dragons wouldn’t kill you, but the boar sure would. She shuddered, thinking back on their first run in with the local wildlife.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Augusta startled her out of her thoughts and she smiled back.

‘Ah, nothing. Are we going to our spot?’

Her friend shot her a look. ‘Of course, why else would we be here?’

Kamilla gestured her forward and she dropped off her dragon, patting its side. ‘Go on then, Sagitta. Go talk to your friends.’

The Nadder clicked happily and nuzzled against Augusta’s face, before galloping off to find other dragons. She then turned and hooked her arm through Kamilla’s. ‘Shall we walk?’

Kamilla laid her hand over her friends. ‘We shall.’

The two strolled off, arm in arm, into the forest. There were easy trails to follow and they had been here so often they didn’t think about where they were headed. Their feet took them the right way as they exchanged news.

Augusta was getting better at her training; she had shot the centre of every target yesterday, even the two the twins were wearing as they ran around the arena, and she had even managed to wrestle Astrid to the ground for a moment! She had immediately been thrown off and had to yield, but it was an achievement nonetheless! Her archery skills were improving rapidly, probably due to her using them almost every day, and she revelled in her newfound skills. Kamilla never had interesting news. All she did was sit in on political meetings and resolve minor disputes around town. She told her friend about the few baby-naming ceremonies she had officiated, and the new food rationing that would come in the next week or so. They were preparing to host a major event.

Kamilla refused to say anything more until they reached their destination. As they started to climb the hill, the conversation turned to the others.

‘I don’t understand why you don’t like Astrid.’ Augusta had taken her friend’s hand and was now swinging their arms between them. ‘She’s nice.’

Kamilla snorted, ‘It’s not that I don’t not like her, she doesn’t like me. Anyway, the real question is how you manage to survive your ‘training sessions’ with her. I’m surprised you leave with all your fingers.’

‘She’s not trying to hurt me.’ Seeing Kamilla’s face, Augusta presses on, ‘never mind Astrid, how’s Hiccup? He hasn’t been around lately. Astrid’s taken over my dragon training lessons now, too.’

Kamilla sighed, kicking at a loose stone. ‘Yeah, we’ve been busy. This celebration, it’s very important. Stoick has us running ourselves ragged making preparations. You know, last night I woke up to get a drink of water and I found Hiccup slumped over on his desk. His candle had burned out ages ago, thank the gods, or I’d have woken to a house fire.’

Her friend winced, ‘Was he okay?’

‘Oh, yeah. He just had charcoal smudged all over his face. And whatever he was drawing was ruined. Now that I think about it, he probably wasn’t okay.’ Augusta snorted beside her and she grinned. Nothing was as satisfying as the suffering of others.

They broke through the tree line and were hit by a hard gust. Outside of the cover of the forest the wind was cut by the cliff they were looking over. They assumed their normal positions, flat on their backs on the edge of the cliff, allowing the wind to be pushed just above them so the sun could warm them up.

As soon as they got comfortable, squinting up into the glare of the clouds overhead, Augusta spoke up. ‘So, tell me about this celebration.’

She felt Kamilla sigh beside her. She could picture her face, eyes closed but brow furrowed, thinking. ‘Stoick has invited the tribes—’

‘All of the tribes?’

‘All of the tribes—’

‘Why?’

‘Gus, please.’

‘Sorry.’

They shift. Augusta catches Kamilla’s fingers with her own and they curl together until they’re holding hands. She squeezes as Kamilla sighs.

‘All of the tribes are coming. They’re going to be staying for a week once they’re all here, that’s why we’re stocking up so much food. Stoick wants to have a display of power, so you’ll probably have to do a performance flight with your dragons. It’s going to be a week of partying, I think. For everyone else, that is. Hiccup and I have to become acquainted with every Chief and their heir for political reasons.’

Kamilla picked at the grass mindlessly, eyes still closed. Augusta was side-eyeing her, ‘is that all? What are we celebrating?’

‘… By the end of the week, I will be expected to have,’ Kamilla’s voice cracked and she stopped, tightening her grip on her friend’s hand, ‘to have chosen a husband.’

The words sat heavy in the air between them as the wind whistled overhead. Kamilla flinched as Augusta sat up, casting a shadow over her.

‘Wait, what? You have to get married?’ She didn’t need to open her eyes to see Augusta’s shocked face.

‘We always knew this would happen, we just thought it would happen to you.’

‘But- but that’s different! I was already betrothed.’ The shadow moved and she peeked over. Augusta was slumped over her crossed legs, staring over at the horizon. ‘I guess I didn’t expect it. I don’t know why, it was expected of me when I was the princess. It feels unreal, that you’re the one being forced to marry.’

‘It’s not all bad. I’d rather it be me, I didn’t have a chance at marriage as your hand maid.’ When her friend’s posture didn’t change she rose, stretching, and looped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Maybe it will be as romantic as you always hoped it would be. He might sweep me off my feet.’

Augusta was silent and the two soaked in the day. In the distance, under the rush of the wind, there were playful dragon cries.

She almost jumped when Augusta held the hand that was draped over her. ‘What about the Chief that I was engaged to?’

Kamilla let her head rest on her friend’s shoulder, ‘what about him?’

‘Well, do you think he’s going to come? Won’t he just say you’re supposed to marry him?’ Augusta shot up, smacking Kamilla’s head with her shoulder. ‘Won’t he know we switched places?’

‘Um, ow! Give a girl some warning before you slam into her skull! Ugh, no? If this guy was so adamant about marrying you he would have come looking for us way before now. We’ve been here, what, a year? He probably assumed you died on the way. Plus, we were never told his name, he probably doesn’t know yours.’ She rubbed at her head, scowling at the probably bruise forming beneath her fingers. ‘At worst, we feign ignorance. If some guy does come up and demand he was supposed to marry a princess Augusta… We say it was a Roman tactic. To avoid a Helen of Troy situation, we swap names with our servants. That’s believable. And with no proof, they wouldn’t have a claim to either of us.’

She sighed at her friend’s face, still furrowed with worry. ‘Come on, Gus. When have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing? Politics has always been my speciality, and politics is mostly lying through your teeth.’

‘… Okay.’ Augusta flicked her hair over her shoulder and grinned at her, ‘Helen of Troy are we now? Expecting a declaration of war when you’re proposed to?’

Kamilla snorts, ‘gods, I hope not. What a mess that would be.’

‘Oh, most beautiful Kamilla!’ Augusta draped herself back against Kamilla’s legs, pretending to fan herself. ‘I will simply perish if you will not wed me! Oh, most wonderful princess! Please, bless me with your beauty and wit!’

She fluttered her lashes at her friend, who shoved her off her legs, laughing. ‘Shut it! For all you know they could all be old and wrinkly, like the senators back home.’

‘Oh, ew, no way. With my luck, they’ll all be gorgeous, muscular young men. Seems about right that when I’m not getting married all the suitors are perfect.’ Augusta sighed, laying belly first on the grass. ‘… We’re not going to be able to stay together after this, are we?’

Kamilla rolled next to her and nudged her with a shoulder. ‘Have we even been together recently? You’re always training now and I’m always doing official business. The only times we ever hang out anymore are when we sneak away together like this.’

‘But we’re not even going to be able to do this. You’ll be on another island, won’t you?’

She nodded, watching Augusta roll onto her back. ‘You can visit me.’

‘I always thought that we would stay here, you know? You and Hiccup in charge, me and Astrid as your second-in-command. It was like a dream, washing up here.’  
Kamilla tangled her hand in her friend’s hair, finger-combing it like when they were children. ‘It was a dream, alright.’

They sat in silence, each wondering what they should say, until a shadow fell across them. Sagitta had returned and plodded over to nudge at Kamilla’s shoulder until she petted her.

‘Come sit with us girl, we’re not leaving for a while.’

The Nadder chuffed and circled her rider, settling in delicately around the girls. It was always careful of its spines, something they greatly appreciated, and the trio remained on the cliff until nightfall.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Ditching jury duty?’

Hiccup’s voice rang across the forge to where Kamilla had draped herself over a padded bench.

‘What are these used for again?’

‘I use the padding to bend wires more accurately. I’ve told you that before.’

She sighed dramatically and stretched out further along it. ‘They are good napping spots. Close to the fire.’

‘And far from the door, so no one can spot you.’ He turns back to his sketches. ‘How long have you been hiding?’

‘Two hours. You?’

‘Three.’

‘I am surprised they have not checked here for you.’

‘I only got here an hour ago. Plus, I sent Toothless out on his own to fly around the sea stacks. They’re going to have to catch him before they realise I’m back home.’

Kamilla rolled over to raise an eyebrow at his back. ‘Clever boy.’

‘Not the Chief’s son for nothing. I’m a master strategist.’

‘How long until they return?’

He squinted out the window and pursed his lips. ‘Maybe another hour if we’re lucky. How are you holding up?’

She groaned and slid off the bench, allowing herself to flop boneless on the floor, still groaning.

He didn’t even turn around. ‘That bad, huh?’

‘Oh, Hiccup. If I have to explain that ‘finders keepers’ is not a real law again, I am going to steal a dragon and fly away, never to be heard again.’

‘Aw, you can’t do that.’ He wiped his charcoal-stained hands on his pants. ‘You’ll disappoint the other Chiefs. Who will they marry if you leave?’

‘You, of course.’

He snorted, ‘Doesn’t work that way, I’m already an heir. Nice try, though.’

His smile dropped as she laughed, a swirl of something akin to guilt in his stomach. He cleared his throat, ‘uh, Kamilla?’

She pulled herself up off the ground, throwing her head back to get her hair out of her face. ‘Yes, Hiccup?’

‘Do you, uh,’ he didn’t know how to approach it delicately, ‘Do you want to get married?’

‘Oh, yes. Uh, Gus and I used to talk about getting married all the time when we were kids.’ A smile rose unbidden at the memories. ‘She would say that a far prince would fall in love with her and take her to a new life, full of adventure.’

He walked over to her and sat on the bench, patting the spot next to him. ‘What about you? What did you say?’

She dropped next to him and sighed. ‘The same, I guess. I always knew my duty would get in the way of marriage. I never made any plans. It is alright though, at least this way I have some of choice. Back home I would have been traded off like an animal.’

‘You don’t feel like that’s what’s happening now?’ Hiccup winced at his own phrasing, but she just shrugged.

‘I am in power here; these people are trying to court me. I will have to say yes to one of them, but they need to get in my good favour. The only thing I am worried about is picking the wrong person. What if they are nice to me to get picked, then once we are married they change into a completely different person?’

He smiled at that, ‘You’re a pretty good judge of character. Anyway, dad and I will keep an eye on them. We wouldn’t make you marry someone that would make you unhappy.’ He turned to glance out the window and check how long they have left, when a thought struck him. ‘There’s one heir you definitely shouldn’t choose.’

‘Yes?’ She started to swing her legs under the bench. ‘Are we starting the ‘which heir is best’ gossip early?’

He turned back to her and she stopped. He looked more serious than she expected. ‘The heir of the Berserk tribe. His name is Dagur.’

‘Creative.’

‘The Berserk tribe name their children after everyday objects so that they can be referred to safely during war, even in the presence of the enemy.’

‘Oh, I did not mean—’

‘Their tribe is passionate and strong, useful if they’re on your side. Their Chief, Oswald the Agreeable, has been keeping peace between us for a long time. His son, however, is a menace.’

She winced at his sombre expression. ‘How old is he?’

‘Couple years older than me. We used to be made to ‘play’ together when we were young. Of course, playing for Dagur usually meant trying to kill me.’

‘The way you Vikings are, I would not be surprised if your childhood games were ‘throw the axe at your friend’.’

He snorted, ‘An axe? If I was lucky. Dagur used to shoot at me with a bow. The next year, he tried to drown me. The year after that he broke my arm.’

She gasped and he glanced over at her. ‘Your father let him do that?’

‘Let him? Who could stop him? Oswald tried, but he would just say he was kidding around. We were only children, I guess they thought he would grow out of it.’

‘Did he?’

‘Who knows. They stopped coming a few years back.’ His eye was drawn to the window, where the dark shape of his dragon had just plummeted from the sky. It was followed by two others and he grimaced. ‘Do you want to try running, or will we accept our fate?’

Kamilla wanted to ask why, it seemed strange to just stop visiting, but there were more pressing matters. ‘If we gave up do you think they would lighten the sentence?’

‘Definitely not.’

They shrunk as Stoick came through the door, followed by an apologetic Gobber. ‘Having a nice day, children?’

‘Stoick!’ Kamilla jumped down from the bench and clapped her hands together, hoping to spare her friend the brunt of his anger. ‘Just the man I want to see—’

‘Kamilla. Did you finish stock-take of the second storage barn already? I expect you know the number of tents each of our fields can hold and the only reason you haven’t written up a seating plan is that you’ve been too busy resolving issues between my people.’ She deflated under his gaze. ‘Gobber will take you to the Great Hall. Go.’

She nodded meekly, not meeting his eyes, and darted around him where Gobber was waiting. She shot a last glance over her shoulder at Hiccup. He was already standing with rounded shoulders, like he was readying himself for a storm.

She startled when Gobber slung his arm over her shoulder, ‘Ah, don’t worry about him lass. Worry about yerself. We’ve a long day ahead of us.’

‘But it is already past noon!’

He shrugged and she followed his uneven gait into the great Hall, resigned to hours of boredom.

‘Now, let’s go over that seating plan, eh?’

Six hours later she left the Hall. Deciding where the tribes and their Chiefs would sit was murder. If they were placed too close to a tribe they shared bad blood with, a brawl would be inevitable. Not only that, but each Chief and their heir was seated at a large main table at the head of the Hall overlooking the other tables. It was a long, thin thing, meant to have only one side occupied.

With Stoick seated in the centre, she had to position each person radiating outward from him. The closer to Stoick a chief sat on the right side of the table meant his clan was favourable to the chief, but the closer one sat on his left the more undesirable. She had never thought of seating a table as waging a war before.  
Annoyingly, this pattern would only be used for a few days. Once all the tribes were gathered she was going to be the centrepiece, and her ardent suitors were going to have to try and sit as close as they could around her. She wasn’t looking forward to what was surely going to be awful breaches of her personal space.

* * *

There was no time to slack off now, Stoick had every man, woman and dragon working. Touching up the paint on houses, preparing food, even picking rocks out of nearby fields where their guests will be pitching tents. He wanted the island spotless. While Kamilla understood the image a perfect village would impart, she was going to go crazy if he didn’t stop pacing around the house like a caged boar.

‘Stoick, if you do not sit down I am going to bury an axe in your skull. And I mean that in a very caring way.’ She sniped from the kitchen.

He heaved a sigh and dropped onto one of the dining chairs. ‘You couldn’t reach my skull, dear, you would have to settle for my shoulder.’

She pointed the end of the wooden spoon at him, flicking drops of soup across the kitchen. ‘I can throw an axe better than Astrid, it will be stuck in before you know it.’ Satisfied by his acknowledging grunt, she turned back to the pot bubbling in front of her. ‘Why are you tense?’

Behind her, the clatter of metal hitting wood. ‘They arrive tomorrow morning.’

Kamilla shrugged, ‘We are ready.’

An exhale and the creaking of a stool. From the corner of her eye she spotted Hiccup landing out the front. ‘I think I’ll head to bed early.’

She bristled and spun on her heel, ‘but dinner is already-!’

She was scolding an empty room. As Stoick’s boots disappeared around the corner, Hiccup pushed through the door. She turned to him, sighing. ‘Hello, I hope you are hungry, becau-’

‘I’m not eating.’

She stared in stunned silence as he stomped up the stairs, leaving her with Toothless. She turned her eyes to the dragon, but he seemed restless and whined at her.

‘Do you want any soup?’

He answered by dashing up after his rider and she heaved a sigh at the now empty room.

‘Will no one in this house eat?’ 

* * *

‘So, this Dagur, why did he stop coming?’

‘My guess is his dad stopped coming.’

She sneered at his back, ‘Oh yes, very helpful. What is his problem?’

Behind them Toothless appeared in the doorway. He stalked into the room, brushing past Hiccup roughly as he pulled his shirt off, making him fall over.

‘Oof! Ugh, don’t be mad at me! You shouldn’t have gotten caught out there! Thought you were the fastest dragon around.’

For that, Toothless flicked his tail out and cuffed him over the head, before settling onto his rock slab.

‘Aw, is your dragon grumpy?’ Kamilla snickered.

Toothless huffed at her as Hiccup got back to his feet. ‘Yeah, dad grounded us both except for training flights.’

Her face brightened, ‘You can join Gus! The same happened to her after our, uh, time on Dragon Island. She would not mind the company.’

She grinned as his face flamed up. ‘G-Gus, yeah. We can totally, uh, hang out.’

‘Mm-hmm, and if you look at her like that and ask to sit next to her in the Great Hall, you two will be married before I will!’

He threw a mock-annoyed look at her, and then his pillow. ‘Shut up!’

It bounced harmlessly off her stomach and she fell to her knees. ‘I have been wounded! Oh, I will not be able to carry on! Tell Hiccup I loved his dragon better…’ She slumped to the side, motionless.

Hiccup nudged her with the only foot he had left. ‘You’re not dead, but you will be if you don’t go to bed soon.’

‘Um, Hiccup? Dead people cannot sleep. You are talking to yourself.’

Toothless crawled across the floor toward her still body as Hiccup laughed and nuzzled her hair, whining.

She sat up and hugged his neck, ‘Aw, I am not dead, big guy.’

‘Actually, he was going to try and eat you.’ Hiccup snickered.

The pillow smacked into his face in response, and Toothless growled at him. ‘You said it. Toothless would never eat me!’

‘What’s going on up there?’ They all froze as Stoick’s voice echoed up the stairwell.

‘Nothing.’ They called back in unison, Toothless quietly creeping back onto his slab.

Hiccup shoved the pillow back onto his bed and from across the room Kamilla hissed, ‘This is not over.’


	3. Chapter 3

The morning came all too soon. Kamilla was roused by a wet snout pushing at her hair. She batted it away sleepily and rolled over to come face to face with a freshly bathed Toothless.

‘Hey, boy,’ she slurred, plopping one of her hands onto his head, ‘What time is it?’

‘Time to get up!’ Hiccup’s voice chirped from across the room.

She groaned and tugged the heavy cover over her head, but it was flicked back. She instinctively curled up against the cold and whined.

‘None of that, we’ve got guests to welcome. You can’t meet them in your bedclothes now, can you?’ He sounded way too peppy.

She shot up, smacking her head into Toothless’s jaw. ‘Ow! They are here?’

She dropped back down, both hands trying to protect her tender skull. That was the same spot Gus hit too, ugh.

‘Yep!’ Hiccup popped the ‘p’ and snorted at her, ‘so get moving. The ship should arrive in an hour.’

She shivered and glared at him. ‘What is with you? Yesterday you were all sulky, now you are all sunshine.’

He grinned at her and shrugged, tossing a ball of clothes at her huddled form. ‘Just feel good this morning. Get dressed, or we won’t have time for breakfast.’

He disappeared down the stairs and she sighed. She never knew what was going on with that boy. She stretched her legs out and wiggled her feet back under the furs as she unravelled the ball. It was the formal tunic and leggings she had made two days ago. She specifically asked for loose and easy to wear, because Stoick told her she would be wearing ornamental armour over the top. She regretted not getting them lined as she pulled them on, the cold of the predawn seeping through them immediately. She shoved her boots on and raced down the stairs to the hearth. ‘Ready!’

‘I am, you’re not. Put your armour on.’ Hiccup looked almost relaxed, the bastard, munching on a crab apple.

He pointed at a chair by the fire, where a set of pauldrons and gauntlets lay with a chain mail shirt. She tried to tug it on as fast as she could, but the shirt got stuck in her hair. Hiccup took pity on her and helped, complaining the entire time about being late, but when she finally had everything on he stood back. She twisted her hair into a vague ponytail, still in a rush, and he put his hand over his heart.

‘You look like a real Viking princess.’ Stoick’s gruff voice called out from the kitchen.

She laughed, smoothing down any flyaway hairs. ‘I thought Vikings did not have princesses?’

‘That just makes you one of a kind.’ Hiccup chirped.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced at Stoick over his shoulder. ‘You two are being weird. Stop it.’

Hiccup snorted and tugged on her arm. ‘Okay, fine, let’s go. We’ll meet dad at the dock.’

‘If he is meeting us later, do I have time to brush my hair?’

‘I wouldn’t bother.’ He laughed and pulled her out the front.

Her face dropped when she spotted Toothless, ‘If you had told me we were flying I would have braided my hair.’

He grinned over his shoulder at her as they got in the saddle, ‘Exactly. I like that fresh a-tornado-just-destroyed-me look.’

She poked her tongue out at the back of his head, but they were already lifting off so she ended up getting hair stuck to her mouth. She spat it out noisily as they flew and skimmed her eyes over the village. It looked perfect, especially in the faint light of the rising sun. There was something beautiful about the carved wood and snow glistening on the rooftops. She let her head rest on Hiccup’s back and inhaled the crisp air. Gods, she was so hungry.

‘There’s the ship.’

She peered over his shoulder and spotted the large sail of a ship crawling toward the dock. It was larger than the average merchant ship and she sat up straighter to get a better look. The sail had a large red helmet sewn onto it.

‘Meatheads?’

Hiccup nodded and she hummed. They were the closest tribe to Berk, both by distance and blood. They approached the dock and she took a deep breath to get her politician face on.

‘You want to do something fun?’

When Hiccup took that tone of voice she was usually concerned, but she felt the tension leave her shoulders and grinned against his back. ‘Yes.’

Hiccup swerved and sped toward the ship. Toothless swooped and Hiccup pressed himself flat against his dragon, while Kamilla locked her arm around his middle. They twirled, and as she came face to face with one of the men that had come to the deck to shout in amazement, she laughed breathlessly and sped by him. Amid the shouting, Toothless arced back up over the sail and plummeted back down to sea level, pulling up at the last second to glide back to the port.

Kamilla was breathless with the thrill of flight, but she managed to glance over their shoulder and say, ‘You do not think they are going to take that as an aggressive act, do you?’

‘I don’t know, but I spot an aggressive act waiting for us.’

She turned back and cringed at the sight of Stoick, arms crossed, glaring out at them over the water. ‘Maybe it is friendly.’

Toothless swooped under the dock and lighted on the other side, stomping over to Stoick happily. He butted against Stoick’s hand affectionately and he must not have been too angry, because he relented and gave him a scratch on the nose.

‘Why are you both trying to kill me. Hiccup, you’ve been shaving years off my life ever since you were born, but Kamilla? I’d hope you were already through your stressful years.’

She shrugged as she slipped off the saddle. ‘I did not want to rid you of the full teenage daughter experience.’

He didn’t turn, just put his hands behind his back and sighed, staring out at the ship. ‘It’s time, kiddos, get in line and pretend you want to be here.’

‘I have been doing that since I arrived.’ Kamilla fell into line easily and Hiccup elbowed her on the way past. ‘Ow, jerk.’

‘That didn’t hurt.’

‘Children, please.’

* * *

As the ship came closer two villagers dropped down from the pier on their dragons and circled it slowly, until a large shape surfaced under it. It lifted the ship carefully and swung it around close to the pier, to the amazement of those on board. When it was in place, the massive head of a Scauldron emerged to be rewarded with a basket of fish.

The gangplank was secured and the first down were the Chief and his heir. Kamilla started to collect information on them as soon as they came into her sight; Chief, Mogadon, Heir, Thuggory. Closely related to Berk. The first off the boat was obviously their Chief, Mogadon. His men seemed nervous but he swaggered down the plank confidently, even as it creaked under his weight. His beard was long enough to tuck into his belt, and he had done so. He approached Stoick like she approached Augusta, with familiarity and probably too much aggression. They touched foreheads, as was customary, but she winced as they came together with a sharp crack. Vikings.

At first Kamilla thought she was going to be overdressed, but watching the Meathead’s Heir (Thuggory, her mind supplied once she stopped ogling him) she was glad she’d had her tunic tailored to hug her. This man was gorgeous, in every sense of the word. She caught his eyes first, or did he catch hers? They were blue. Gods, they were so strikingly blue, only outshined by the kind smile he graced her with. She was vaguely thankful Augusta wasn’t here to faint in joy, or strangle her with jealousy.

His hair was light brown, as if it struggled to be blonde but couldn’t quite make it, and was for the most part loose excepting two thin braids starting at his temples. His beard, curiously, was cut short but it suited him terribly. She realised she hadn’t smiled back yet and tried to but it felt clumsy. She felt clumsy, watching him step onto the dock with surety but barely make a sound. Surely this man’s name wasn’t Thuggory.  
But of course it was. He bowed reverently to Stoick, who waved it away, and clapped Hiccup firmly on the back as a greeting. She snickered as Hiccup winced at the treatment until those striking blues turned on her.

She felt alarmingly flustered when he bowed to her. It’s not as if she’d never been bowed to before, she was a princess’s handmaid for goodness sake! But her mouth ran dry when he snagged her hand and pressed his lips to it briefly.

How was his beard not even scratchy? Was this guy even mortal?

Again, Kamilla realised she’d failed to respond within an appropriate amount of time and over Thuggory’s shoulder she could see Hiccup stifling laughter. She huffed and Thuggory just smiled a perfect smile and said, ‘Hello, princess Kamilla. I am Thuggory.’ In Latin.

Her eyes lit up and she grinned, immediately falling into her native tongue, ‘Where did you learn how to speak Latin? Gods, it’s been so long. I mean, not that long, Augusta speaks it too obviously, but this is amazing! Hell, I think I’ve found a winner already. Shout it from the rooftops! This is the one!’

As it turned out, this was not the one. Her exclamations were followed by a confused silence and Thuggory sheepishly explained that he had just used up all the Latin he knew.

Well. That was to be expected, really, how perfect can one person be?

(She was exorbitantly happy no one had heard her declaration of the winner anyway, she knew nothing about the guy) 

* * *

Morning had come and gone and the Meatheads were busy setting up their temporary camp. At first Thuggory had gone with them, but Mogadon had sent him back with orders to ‘put our head start to good use.’

That troubled him. Not spending time with Kamilla, she seemed like a nice girl, albeit a bit slow, but something about treating a possible relationship as a tactical advantage… He knew as Chief he would have to view things similarly. His father had taught him that. Once Stoick’s son had learned how to tame dragons, a concept that still boggled his mind, their friendship had become strained. They were equals, but with dragons at their side the Hooligans had become their rulers overnight. A power imbalance that great was not easy to overcome.

But Mogadon had stayed close, remained friendly. It was a relief that their island was so rarely visited by dragons now that they were able to build permanent structures. Their sheep were thriving, their Great Hall was fully intact. With the exception of a few incidents, their island was easily the safest it had ever been. Owing that to Stoick, however, made Mogadon’s blood boil.

Now his son was in a prime position to even the playing field. Granted the girl wasn’t of the Hooligan tribe but she had royal blood that exceeded their borders, and she must have picked up something on dragon training having lived with them so long. Stoick had claimed her as his daughter, used the claim to call them together, whoever managed to snag her would have a voice to whisper into his ear.

Thuggory knew all of this, had known for a long time, and let himself pity her. A princess, sent away from home, struck by a tragedy that destroys all her possessions and people except one, forced to learn a whole new language and culture. And then, once she’s established friendships and connections, to be pushed into a political marriage. His empathetic nature ached for her. He was reminded of a lamb walking to slaughter, a yak handed over for a promise of meat.

But wasn’t he, too? This island was familiar, but definitely not his home. His father had discussed courtship with him like battle plans. Not once was he asked if he wanted to be married, if he was ready to be married. Thuggory glanced over at the princess, the vague thought of ‘please, call me Kamilla’ floated through his mind, and she flashed him a smile.

If she was a prize yak worth bartering for, what was he?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a super sweet comment and busted this chapter out as soon as I could. I also edited the previous chapters, but only minor adjustments.  
> I'm glad this fic is getting attention because it's definitely my favourite to write.

Welcoming guests was exhausting and halfway through a long winded gratitude speech. (Why couldn’t they say thank you like normal people?) Kamilla felt herself drifting off in her chair. She’d fallen into a light doze as soon as the sun set, the gentle flicker of the fires keeping the Great Hall lit swaddled her in their warmth. If she didn’t focus on translation Norse became an unintelligible hum to her, so the steady drone of Chief Mogadon’s voice let her mind wander in the soft space between asleep and awake.

Her eyes slid around the hall, focusing immediately on her friend. Augusta was between Astrid and Snotlout, snickering at some joke. It brought a lazy smile to her face that widened when the twins pushed into view, stifled by Astrid before they could interrupt the speech. Gods, she wished she were there.

Suddenly, applause rang through the hall and she jumped. Seemed the speech was over. She hid her surprise by stretching her shoulders and clapping politely, glancing at Hiccup. He looked as tired as she felt and offered her a smile and a shrug when he caught her eyes. At least they were in this together. His eyes flickered over her shoulder and he nodded, making Kamilla whirl around to face their guest.

‘Oh, I am sorry Thuggory. I was, uh, stretching.’

He smiled a perfect and flicked his perfect hair out of his face. ‘It’s okay, I can barely keep my eyes open when father talks too.’

She chuckled hesitantly. ‘That is good. I do not feel as rude.’

All around the hum of general conversation accentuated their awkward pause.

A heavy expectation settled onto Kamilla’s shoulders and she cleared her throat. ‘Tell me about your island.’

It was safe territory and Thuggory launched immediately into a spiel that had her reeling trying to keep up. Too many adjectives, not enough time. It was embarrassing to ask him to simplify his words but she had to be able to figure out what he was saying faster than he was saying it. He was accommodating, though, and even without fanciful adverbs she was painted a picture of a lush island overrun with sheep and cattle, bordered by steep cliffs with a single wide, swift river running from within a solitary mountain. By the end she had her head in her hands, leant toward him in fascination.

The idea of exploring a new island was pretty tempting, especially with a description like that, and this time it wasn’t hard to summon a smile. ‘Your island is beautiful! I want to go and see it when I can. You will show me around, yes?’

He seemed delighted by her genuine interest and laughed, ‘Of course, I’d be honoured.’

This time the lull was comfortable and she took the chance to glance around the room again. Her eyes gravitated to her friends’ table, smile softening at their apparent enjoyment. Gus was busy laughing at something, but Astrid’s eyes flicked up to the main table and caught hers long enough to give a small nod. Kamilla returned it and Thuggory’s eyes followed her gaze.

‘Are those your friends?’

‘Yes. I think they are, in any case.’

He hummed at her tone. ‘I guess it would be hard to make friends, what with being a princess. I’m sure people try to get close to you for favours, right?’

Her eyes flashed at him and the pause went on just long enough for him to regret speaking such an uncomfortable truth. ‘No. My friends have never asked me for anything I am not willing to give.’

He felt chastised and sat back in his seat. That awful tension was back, he could see it in the set of her shoulders. Movement made him look past her, directly at the disappointed face of his father. Mogadon pointed discreetly at Kamilla and clenched his fist. Obviously he didn’t want to watch his son blow it. Spurred on by the disapproving glare, Thuggory let his fingertips rest on Kamilla’s forearm and leaned close.

‘Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything about your friends.’

She didn’t pull away but she didn’t look at him. ‘It is not my friends honour that I want to defend. It is my own… My own.’ She looked frustrated and pulled her arm away from him to lean over to Stoick.

Thuggory tensed, expecting to be thrown out for offending her, but instead Stoick listened calmly and murmured something back before returning to his conversation with Mogadon.

She turned back to him. ‘My own judgement. I am able to decide things for myself and do not appreciate being told I do not understand.’

It took him a moment to decipher her words and instead of apologizing properly he blurted out, ‘Why do you talk like that?’

Gods, he was the king of awkward conversations. Surprisingly, she seemed to relax at the change of conversation.

‘Oh, I am still learning. It is… easier, to talk in this way. When I try to, uh, ‘blend in’ I make a lot of mistakes. I would rather be understood than sound like a native.’

‘Oh.’ He thought she was just dumb. Whoops. ‘You speak very well. How long have you been learning?’

She preened a little under the praise. ‘Two years. I am practically fluent now.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t call it fluent.’

His tone was light and she responded with a smirk. ‘I am better at Norse than you are at Latin, friend.’

His laugh almost startled himself, and made many turn to see what was so funny. A few chuckles arose at the sight of Thuggory trying to stifle himself with Kamilla sitting smug beside him.

He managed to get ahold of himself when Stoick rose, silencing the hall with his presence alone. ‘Honoured guests, friends, brothers. Join us in our feast tonight, as we celebrate our coming together. We eat as one tribe tonight.’

The short speech was met with uproarious applause; half of which stemmed from the appearance of dishes laden with meat and bread. Kamilla never ceased to marvel at how quickly food could silence an army. She watched food trickle into the hall and sighed. Say what you will about Stoick, he truly cares for his people. Only once all tables were filled were dishes brought to the main table.

Conversation slowed to a comfortable hum between bites and Kamilla busied herself trying to eat without looking like a hungry Gronckle. Tearing into your meal was very Viking, but she liked to think she still had some Roman morals about her.

Her gaze flickered back to Thuggory and she entertained herself with trying to imagine him as her husband. Surely it’d be a nice face to wake up to, but there were too many variables. Did he snore? Was he a morning person? Would he expect her to cook for him? Was he willing to go along with her traditions?

He caught her staring and gave her a cheeky wink. It still made her flush but she laughed it off. Give it more time. ‘All love needs is an opportunity to grow’, right? Or was it ‘where does love come from, no man can know’? She shook the poetry from her head and frowned. Just, give it time.

* * *

Augusta worried her lip between her teeth, eyes locked on the main table. She hadn’t been able to relax, even when Astrid had Tuffnut in a headlock swearing to be silent for the rest of the night. If the others picked up on her stress they didn’t mention it.

As the remnants of the meal were being taken up Astrid jabbed her in the side with her elbow. ‘Lighten up, Gus, she’s fine.’

She scowled but didn’t retaliate. ‘I know that, I can still keep my eyes over her.’

‘Keep an eye on her, you mean.’ Astrid’s sigh caused her fringe to flutter, exposing her left eye for a brief moment. ‘She’s not going to get much safer than in the Great Hall, literally surrounded by our tribe. We’re not on guard duty tonight, at least try to have fun.’

She ignored her. Astrid knew better than to try and force her to see reason.

‘You can sulk all you want but don’t let it ruin her night, okay?’

Gus didn’t have to look to know Astrid had left. At first she wanted to stay there and stew on her anger. What would Astrid know about something like this? It’s not like her best friend was getting married and shipped off to another island. 

And that was the crux of it. She and Kamilla had been friends since they were ten years old. A young princess and her handmaiden; servant and master turned sisters. They’d lived in the same house, travelled in the same carts, eaten all their meal together all their lives. The idea of her not being close by was one Gus had never entertained. Even in her childish fantasies Kamilla was with her, her nameless prince would always allow her to bring her best friend along.

She was broken out of her thoughts by the harsh scraping of wood against stone. They were clearing the middle of the hall. It must be time for dancing. She jumped to her feet and helped a few others heft up the wooden bench she was seated on, carrying it on their shoulders to the edge of the room. From the corner of her eye she can see harps and lyres being procured as if from nowhere and set up on a table, now a makeshift stage. 

Viking music was experimental at best, and at worst… Well. Apollo hadn’t blessed them with musical finesse. They made up for their cacophony with sheer enthusiasm, often the entire room would join in to create a single endearing, tone deaf song. The one thing Augusta truly appreciated was their love of dancing. It was nothing like the structured dances back home; here she could weave through the crowd and switch partners on a whim. The fluidity of their dancing was almost beautiful in juxtaposition with their harsh music.

Dancing was also a great way to spend time with someone relatively alone, and so as the others were pushing the bench against the wall she sidled closer to the main table. She had a window of opportunity before the music began to invite Kamilla out, otherwise she would have to try and catch her alone. A princess is never alone for long.

She watched Kamilla as she approached, willing her to look up and make eye contact. Interrupting their conversation wasn’t something she was comfortable with, if Kam would just look up, just look u-

‘Gus!’

She jumped and Kamilla turned to her instantly, trying to spot where the shout had come from. They locked eyes for a split second before a hand on her shoulder turned her around and she came face to face with Hiccup. The crowd around them was forcing him to stand closer than normal and she willed herself not to blush. Hiccup was apparently way ahead of her, cheeks ruddy with what she assumes was alcohol.

‘Gus, come dance with me. Snotlout bet me he and Ruff could dance longer than you and I, we have to prove him wrong.’ He was grinning ear to ear.

She swallowed around her dry throat and glanced back at Kamilla. It looked like Thuggory had just risen and offered her his hand, and Augusta’s blood ran cold.

She shrugged of Hiccup’s hand and darted over to Kamilla. ‘Princess, dance with me!’

She startled all three of them and Kam looked unsure for a moment before turning to Thuggory apologetically, ‘I am sorry, perhaps another time?’

‘Of course.’ He bowed to her politely, ‘until next time.’

As soon as Kamilla had slipped out from behind the table she gripped Gus by the forearm and pulled her toward the newly appointed dancefloor. The musicians had just began what could be considered tuning their instruments when they reached the middle of the floor.

Kamilla spun her around and slipped immediately into Latin, ‘Did you see Hiccup’s face as we went past?’

Gus could feel her face heating up. ‘He only asked me because Snotlout dared him.’

‘Gods, you’re so stupid for such a smart girl.’

Any further conversation was cut short by the abrupt beginning of a song. It was light and bouncy, lyrics unintelligible to the both of them, but they fell into step quickly. They were quite a spectacle; from what they could tell most Viking dances were a lot of stomping and spinning with intermittent clapping thrown in. Instead, the two Romans swirled, using each other to balance. Visually, watching them move amongst the Vikings was like watching a stream flowing through mountains. It was something they shared, being taught the art of movement, and in moments like these it was easy for Augusta to pretend things would never change.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead!!!  
> When will Dagur appear? Not for at least the next two chapters. Sorry dudes. Hope you stick around that long.

The two days it took for the next tribe to arrive were tense. Augusta still didn’t trust this strange man with her friend and when she wasn’t busy training with Astrid she took to following the two around. It had been a long time since she’d played the ‘I’m-her-handmaiden’ card, but thankfully her argument about requiring an escort were heeded, and she was a willing volunteer. 

The worst of it was that Thuggory was lovely. He was polite and accommodating and Gus didn’t trust a word of it. She might be the younger of the two but she wasn’t a fool, and years of being doted upon by strangers attempting to win her favour made her wary of people that were too nice. That’s why she clicked with Astrid so easily, the woman had enough sense not to trust absolute strangers immediately. But even she was growing tired of her constant paranoia.

‘Maybe he just likes her,’ Astrid’s voice was distorted by her helmet but the annoyance was clear, ‘you ever thought about that? Kamilla’s not the worst bride he could have.’

‘She could do so much better, though!’ Augusta’s axe clanged off Astrid’s shield with enough force to make her step back and scowl.

‘You know, you don’t have to lie to me. I can see you’re jealous.’

‘Jealous?’ Augusta snarled, ‘why on earth would I be jealous of some bland little pretty boy throwing himself at my best friend? Because he is wasting her time? Because he is only marrying her for political reasons? Because he is taking her away from her family, her friends, her best friend, and dumping her on an island of strangers to play housewife?’

Her strikes grew harder and increasingly random, until finally she swiped wildly and knocked Astrid’s helmet clean off her head. Gus drew back, chest heaving as Astrid recovered from the blow and growled.

‘Get out.’

Augusta winced and let the axe drop to her side. ‘I didn’t mean to-’

‘Get out of my arena!’ Gus jumped at Astrid’s tone and opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Instead she threw the axe down and left, face hot with anger and shame.

* * *

 

Kamilla was once again lined up on the pier, only this time Thuggory and Mogadon were invited to stand with them. The crowd had also doubled but the Meatheads stood separate, away from the water. Apparently the sleek outline of a Scauldron scant metres from the surface put them on edge.

Kamilla didn’t blame them, when she and Augusta had first been confronted by the dragons of the archipelago they were terrified. Back home it wasn’t unusual for some of the elite to have pet dragons, but they were small things with useless fluttering wings, often already declawed and mouths held shut with ornamental muzzles of gold or silver plated iron. Large dragons were only ever seen near the coastline. Monstrous things with multiple heads rising, dripping, out of the sea to tear ships apart and lay waste to seaside towns. The worst were the  _ fulgurs _ , solitary beasts that would roll in with storm clouds, levelling cities to nothing.

With these images in mind, being brought into a village with dragons skittering between people’s legs and lumbering through town was strange, to say the least. Sometimes Kamilla pondered what would happen if they brought this knowledge back home. Would the attacks cease there too? Could she set those ‘pet’ dragons free? She’d never know.

She was broken out of her musings by a jab to her side which she returned, digging directly into Hiccup’s unprotected stomach. ‘Ah! I was just trying to wipe that blank look off your face before you offended our new guests, you troll.’

She rolled her eyes, ‘Stop whining, it is unbecoming of a prince.’

Thuggory snorted from her other side as Hiccup’s eyes narrowed. ‘Heir, not prince.’

‘Quiet.’

Stoick’s voice silenced them and she caught a glimpse of something dark in the distance, startled when she realised how close the fleet actually was. Their crest was unintelligible, just a blob on their sails. They were travelling at a good speed though, faster than most who were coming in to dock. It took less than a minute for them to get close enough for her to see their crest properly. It was… It was a blob. She narrowed her eyes, trying to spot any distinguishing features, but it seemed like one of them had just spilled a bottle of ink in the centre of their sail then shrugged and left it be.

She glanced at Hiccup out of the corner of her eye as the flagship made a sharp turn to come alongside the pier, still moving a little too quick for comfort.

‘Brace yourself.’

She turned to him fully then, eyes wide in alarm as he shifted into a fighting stance. She just managed to spread her legs and square her shoulders when the hull hit the pier. Wood creaked and, if Thuggory hadn’t grabbed her shoulder to steady her, Kamilla would have toppled right off the edge into the water. As it were, she flipped her hair back and stared at the new arrivals, dumbfounded.

They apparently jumped off the ship upon impact, when she was too busy steadying herself to pay attention, and immediately dropped to kneel in front of Hiccup. There was one directly in front of him and as many as could fit onto the pier behind. She would be surprised if there was anyone left on the ship, the pier was practically creaking under the weight of them all.

Hiccup wasn’t at all surprised. He seemed embarrassed, actually. He muttered something to the one in front of him and the crouched form rose to its full height, revealing the strangest Viking Kamilla had ever seen.

He reminded her of a palm tree. Tall, maybe taller than Stoick, and thin, with a shock of brown hair the stuck straight out from his scalp. She couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to look that way or had just become so dirty it wouldn’t lay flat. When her eyes drifted to his face she couldn’t contain her shocked gasp. He had bright blue tattoos swirling from his face down his neck and disappearing under his tunic. They were jarring against his skin and when he turned to her and grinned he looked absolutely feral.

Before she could think of shrinking away he had leapt across and grasped her hand in both his own, dropping to his knees again. He began to speak, and his accent was so foreign that it took her an almost indecent amount of time to translate.

‘Well hello there princess, lovely t’meet you eh? Heard you’re lookin’ for a husband! Not gonna find him here, unfortunately. We don’t bother with that ‘heir’ nonsense, but we’re happy as a fat yak to support you. M’name’s Norbert.’

Once she had processed this information she gasped back a quiet ‘thank you’ and he jumped back to his feet and, tucking her hand under his arm, began to walk through the crowd toward the Great Hall. She glanced over her shoulder, desperately trying to make eye contact with Hiccup, but all she could see were the rest of the Hysterics. The sea of blue-striped people cut between Berk and the Meatheads, who joined the strange parade. Kamilla stumbled alongside Norbert, who she assumed was their chief, barely able to keep up with his stride let alone his words as he chattered on beside her. It was only when they reached the centre of the village that he stopped dead. 

She took the opportunity to catch her breath and was surprised when he ducked down to murmur, ‘Oi, lass, where exactly be your feast?’

A brief pause to translate, then Kamilla stifled her giggles and tugged on his arm. ‘I will pull you in the correct direction, you may continue to lead the army.’

* * *

 

It was only the second feast and Kamilla was already bored of them. For the first half she had been able to sit with Norbet (the Nutjob, apparently. Not a title she would be particularly proud of but he seemed happy enough.) The politics of his island kept her enthralled for the better part of two hours, they were remarkable. Instead of the heir being the offspring of the chief, it was voted upon after the chief’s death based on who is the most affected by the death. It seemed that they valued emotional attachment over blood bonds, and it fascinated Kamilla like nothing else. It was almost embarrassing when Thuggory interrupted them to ask her to dance and she contemplated turning him down to keep talking.

She didn’t though, her manners kicked in and she excused herself with a promise to pick up their conversation later. Norbert just laughed and waved her off, ‘don’t wanna waste your youth yakkin’ with old men, lass.’

Dancing with Thuggory was an awkward affair. For starters, Kamilla was wearing the only dress she owned and her shoes kept catching on the length of it and making her stumble instead of step. This could have been easily remedied by tucking it up into her belt a little, but every time she did Thuggory would make a mistake and accidentally tug it back out. Needless to say, as soon as the song ended Kamilla gave her prettiest curtsy and withdrew to her seat. She caught Norbert’s eye and smiled, changing the trajectory of her retreat.

Her plan was foiled by a barrel-chest stepping directly into her path. The collision was hard enough to stun her for a moment, allowing Mogadon to guide her back to her seat. ‘Oh, I do apologise, princess! Seems I didn’t see you there.’

What Kamilla wouldn’t give to be selectively blind. She took a sip from her goblet before responding, letting the wine sweeten her tongue. ‘It is no problem, I will have to be more careful where I step.’

Mogadon’s smile wasn’t natural but it was practiced. Kamilla responded in kind, letting her political face click into place as he began to speak.

‘You and my boy looked a pretty picture out there.’

The pride in his voice wasn’t forced and she bowed her head, ‘he is a considerate partner.’

‘You know,’ he leaned on the table, blocking her view of the room, ‘it’s hard being so far from home.’

‘Yes. None could be further than me.’ She let herself savour the discomfort in his expression. 

His recovery was graceful, however. ‘Of course. This place must have been a whole ‘nother world for you.’

She tilted her head, both to agree and try to peer around his bulk. If only she could make eye contact with someone, they’d come rescue her from this.

‘What with dragons, you have dragons back home?’ He continued and she barely repressed a sigh. This would require her full participation apparently.

‘Yes, but we have nothing like these dragons.’ She swilled her wine, ‘nothing.’

‘Must be a relief, seeing them tamed so easily.’

Her eyes shot to his, what was he searching for? ‘... A relief to us all, yes?’

He held her gaze for a beat longer but he sat back with a deep sigh. Without his massive form looming over her, Kamilla felt she could breathe again and hid her sudden inhale in her goblet. He bid her a quick goodbye and slipped away to another corner of the hall. She frowned at his back, frantically going over the short conversation. What did he want to know?

Her frustration drew Hiccup to her like a magnet. His hand touched her shoulder and she almost slapped it away before she realised who it was. ‘Having a rough night?’

She sighed and rubbed at her eyes, when had she gotten so tired? ‘Yes. How much longer will this be?’

‘Not long to go now.’ Hiccup tutted in sympathy and slung an arm across her shoulders. ‘You’ll make it through, have another dance to keep you going.’

‘I will not survive another dance.’

He just laughed at her muttering and pulled her out to the floor, ‘you can’t dance worse than a one-legged Viking.’

Kamilla set out to prove him wrong, passing him on to a flushed Augusta when she couldn’t stay up any longer. Thuggory welcomed her back to her seat with a smile and she slumped against him as she sat. Watching her two best friends flounder across the dance floor brought a genuine, if exhausted, smile to her face. She had at least one happy marriage to look forward to.


End file.
